


Cheesecake Cravings

by andachippedcup



Series: Domestic Belle [14]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-04
Updated: 2013-02-04
Packaged: 2017-11-28 04:09:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/670114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andachippedcup/pseuds/andachippedcup





	Cheesecake Cravings

Belle couldn’t quite put her finger on what it was that she wanted to eat. All she knew was that, whatever it was, she wanted it. Badly. She was craving something. Something sweet, that much she knew but also something not so sweet. Something a bit saltier.

As she prowled the kitchen and practically dismembered the pantry though, she became increasingly disgruntled. Ice cream didn’t appeal to her and neither did the basket of muffins and bread that Ruby had brought over the day before. She didn’t want candy or the fizzy drinks (‘soda’, Rum called it). She didn’t want tea sweetened with sugar or anything else.

So she did the only thing she could do. She went to the store.

She prowled the aisles looking at the selection of cakes and pies and pastries and still wasn’t finding anything to her satisfaction.

And then, she saw it. The most beautiful, perfect, lovely, appetizing, delicious looking platter of Cheesecake. She’d had it before; Rum had taken her out for a fancy dinner with bubbly drinks called Champagne and course after course of food, followed by a dessert of Cheesecake drizzled in chocolate and raspberries.

It had been delicious then and it sounded  _heavenly_ now.

Without a moment’s hesitation, she loaded up with not one, not two, not even three, but rather, six platters of cheesecake.

It seemed like the appropriate amount.

——-

Her husband and her father were hardly on the best of terms; cane whippings and abduction were not, she was learning, the stuff of which friendships were made or new families forged. She had hoped that, over time, some sort of truce might be forged out of respect for her love of them both. However, enough time had passed now that she had begun to wonder if she’d been wrong.

Her husband was hardly a fan of the ‘family get-togethers’ that Belle insisted on having but he at least went, albeit grudgingly. The first meal had been an utter disaster which had ended with half her father’s cheap china being flung to the floor when Maurice French had stood suddenly and flipped the table on accident in his rage. Her husband had retorted by flinging a cup of water at French senior since the table had come close to grazing Belle.

At that point, she’d had to institute strict rules regarding the willy-nilly flinging of dinnerware.

Since that time though, through months of careful cultivation, an unsteady alliance of sorts had grown between her father and her husband. Oh, it was fickle, to be sure; her father had not forgotten about her husband’s beating of him and her husband had not forgotten about her father’s attempts to wipe her memory. But they were trying. For her sake, they were both  _trying_.

Still, the dinner conversation was strained until Belle asked for stories about her mother. Those, she well knew, her father was in no short supply of and he regaled them with story after story, all of them ones Belle had heard a thousand times before. It wasn’t until he started to describe Belle’s mother when she was pregnant though that Belle’s interest piqued substantially, for she’d never heard  _those_ stories before.

“Your mother…she, ah- … she craved black olives and…oh what was it? …Cheesecake! Yes. Black olives and cheesecake.” Maurice French mumbled, a distant smile tracing its way across his face as he remembered days gone by. “Wretched mixture; I remember, I tasted it the once.” He held up a single finger for emphasis. “ _Just_ the once. That convinced me that women were made of stronger mettle, to eat those kinds of things during pregnancy.” He chuckled and Belle beamed as her father and her husband shared a laugh. It was rare for them both to be on the same page and this newfound agreement, however uneasy, thrilled her.

“That’s so funny!” She exclaimed brightly and sat up as she gave her husband’s hand a squeeze. “Just today when I was at the store, I had the strongest craving for cheesecake! And when I got home and I was putting away the groceries I saw the jar of olives and I just… I had to have them!” Belle grinned. “I thought it tasted quite good though, Papa.” She added at the end, her nose crinkling delightedly.

Her father and husband, however, fell quite still at her confession, both of them staring at her in various states of wonder. Her father looked half disgusted, while her husband looked as though someone had punched him in the gut and given him a lollipop all at once.

After several seconds of silence with their bulging eyes on her, Belle set down the cup of tea she’d been nursing and looked at the both of them quizzically.

“You two look as if you’ve just had a fright. Whatever is the matter?” She inquired and gave her husband a firm nudge in the ribs when both he and her father remained silent but shared a pointed look. At that, Belle frowned; it seemed impossible that the two of them could go from barely being able to tolerate one another to suddenly sharing secret glances but such now seemed the case.

“Well? Out with it! Neither of you has said a word in minutes. Cat got your tongues?” She jested, though there was little true mirth in her tone. She was clearly agitated and her patience was waning with every passing moment.

“Belle…” Her father choked out, though words failed him thereafter as he stared at her in awe and finally turned to look to her husband for help.

“Love,” Rumplestiltskin’s voice washed over her, warm and familiar and inviting as he turned in his chair to face her and sandwiched the hand he had been holding between each of his and cradled it to his chest. “You were craving…cheesecake and black olives/” He repeated, the lilt in his voice making it a question and she nodded emphatically.

“Yes! I don’t understand why that’s so terrible. It tasted just fine. I haven’t gotten sick from it!” She pressed, still not understanding where the sudden awkwardness had come from. Who would have thought that confessing a simple craving could have caused so much of a fuss?

“It…it isn’t the  _taste_ we’re surprised by, dearie.” He tried to explain gently, clearly tiptoeing around something, which only upset Belle more. There had been enough secrets between them – she did not want any more to be added to that sum.

“Well then what is it?! You’re acting like I said I had eaten juiced slugs or the like.” Belle grumbled irritably as her husband clutched her hand more tightly in his and leaned into her, brushing away a strand of her hair with one hand before he grabbed her chin ever so gently to make her meet his gaze.

“Dearie, you just told us you were  _craving_   _black olives and cheesecake_ …” He repeated as he attempted to explain. Several seconds elapsed and he half sighed, half laughed and shot her father a knowing glance which only served to irritate her further.

“Yes, yes I know!” She said exasperatedly as she stood up and wrenched away from him. “But clearly it isn’t that unusual, if my mother ate the same thing when she was pregnant with me! What’s so odd about that?!” She demanded, hands on her hips as she stared down her lover, who at this point was biting his lip to choke back laughter.

And then, just like that, it hit her and her jaw dropped open in shock.

“When she was… when she was  _pregnant with me_!” She exclaimed, her eyes widening as she sought her husband’s gaze and found him staring at her, his eyes shining with joy. One hand flew to cover her mouth as the other tentatively went to her stomach, her palm covering it protectively but fearfully, as if afraid that her touch might somehow harm the baby she now believed to be growing inside of her womb.

When, some many moments later, she looked away from her stomach and back to her husband, tears were in her eyes and sliding softly down her cheeks.

“We’re having a baby?” She asked in a soft tone, disbelief and hope and awe and a thousand other emotions bubbling up within her as she choked out the words over her tears. He placed a hand on her stomach gently, though the protective nature of it was clear in his simple action as he stood and took her hand in his free one.

“There’s one way to be sure, sweetheart.” He uttered hoarsely and gave her a pointed look. It didn’t take her more than a moment to figure out his meaning.

“The drug store’s down the street.” She offered hopefully.

“Belle-” Her father’s voice was quiet, hesitant as he interrupted what was clearly a private moment between husband and wife. Belle’s eyes darted to him and her smile flickered uncertainly for a moment and then grew shakily.

“I need to know, Papa.” She soothed and grabbed his hand in one of hers to give him a reassuring squeeze. “I must, or I’ll go mad with the not knowing.” She explained. “Don’t worry,” she cooed, “We’ll be fine.” She beamed, gently setting down his hand as she took up her husband’s instead.

After all, no one was like to mess with her when she was with the Dark One, even if he was just a grumpy old pawnbroker with a limp nowadays.

——-

“Can we check now?”

“We still have forty five seconds.” Her husband answered with a patient hum as he tapped his cane and stared hard at the gold pocket watch he was holding onto for dear life. His wife wriggled about in silence and then, several seconds later.

“Can we check it  _now_?”

“Dearie, it’s been precisely seven seconds. We still have thirty eight more to go.” He retorted, his eyes never leaving the watch’s second hand as it ticked by at tortuously slow speeds. His wife was silent and still for a moment as they both breathed in the near tangible tension in the room but at last, Belle could stand no more.

“What if it’s false?” She asked and though he opened his mouth to respond, she cut him off before he got the chance. “What if we’re getting all worked up over nothing?” Belle exploded suddenly as she stood up from her seat on the edge of the tub and paced back and forth in the confined space of the bathroom, her hands on her hips. She did this for several terse seconds, so worked up that she struggled to find the right words. “I mean… cheesecake and olives are probably a more common meal than you’d think. It doesn’t mean anything. Not with any certainty. Rum, what if we’re not pregnant?!” She asked, pleading for him to comfort her as she tugged on his arm desperately, fear painting her voice with strain.

And then, so softly that it almost broke his heart.

“What if we never have a baby?” She whispered in mortification, seeking his eyes for comfort and hope and reassurance and a thousand things more.

For the first time since he’d first begun to time the pregnancy test, her husband tore his eyes away from the pocket watch in his hand and slowly to his wife. With slow movements, he pocketed his watch and rose on stiff legs and pulled his wife into his arms for a hug, pressing his lips to her ear as he did so.

“Fortunately, dearie, it looks as though that won’t be an issue.” He soothed and when she pulled away from him abruptly to look him in the eyes, he smiled and produced the pregnancy test, waving the little pink “+” sign in front of her.

Belle’s jaw dropped open and slowly, her mouth formed a wide smile as she looked from the test to her husband and back again.

“We’re having a baby?” She asked, her voice choked with emotion and the tears of joy she was straining to hold back. Her husband said nothing, but simply cupped her face in his  hand and nodded before adding.

“We’re having a baby.” 


End file.
